


Going to the Market

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [25]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip takes Mal on an away mission. Many strange things happen, involving hamsters, snacks, and a woman in a leather bikini.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going to the Market

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

"Ow."

_Be quiet._

"Ow!"

_Shut up. I'm serious._

"Owwww."

_I am working here! Shut up!_

"Owwww!"

_Not another sound! I mean it! Shut your trap!_ Punctuated with a glare.

"OWWWWWWW!"

"Mal! Shut up!" Trip turned back to the gathering of officers. "Sorry, Captain. You were saying?"

"Are you sure he's okay?" Hoshi asked worriedly.

"Owwwwwwwww," Mal moaned piteously, upon hearing that someone was concerned about him.

"He's just getting his allergy shots so he can go down to the planet," Trip told her shortly. "I'm sure they don't even hurt at all. He just wants attention." _One more sound and you will not be going, understand?_

"So here's the list of supplies and equipment to keep an eye out for," Archer continued, passing the data pads around. "We're not in dire need of anything, but if we can find some good bargains, so much the better." He glanced around the group. "Anything else?"

"I'm going to prep the shuttlepod," Marcus announced.

"I'm going to download the latest UT updates," Hoshi added.

"I'm gonna go hit Mal with something," Trip told them easily.

Archer rolled his eyes and the meeting officially broke up. Trip swung around slowly, hands on his hips, giving Mal the evil eye where he sat on the biobed. Mal looked back, opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it theatrically, as if to remind Trip that he wasn't supposed to make any sound at all. Jon chuckled but quickly disguised it as a cough when Trip glared at him.

"You know, the only reason we were havin' this meeting in Sickbay was because of _you_ ," Trip reminded Mal, walking over to him. Mal blinked silently. Trip added, "You may now speak—to apologize to Liz for acting like she was causing you pain when she wasn't."

To Mal's credit, his expression said he hadn't actually thought of the situation that way. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Liz," he told Crewman Cutler immediately. "It hardly hurt at all, honest. Just a little bit, really. A small amount."

"Well I'm glad to hear that," she replied with a smile. "You should be all set for the away mission."

Trip hung his head slightly in defeat when she used those words. "Away mission?" Mal repeated excitedly. "Ooh, I'm going on an _away mission_! That is _so_ exciting!"

"It's not an _away mission_ ," Trip corrected sharply, Liz having left the area. "We're just—going to the market."

"But you're wearing your _away mission_ jacket," Mal pointed out. He started to pet the water-repellent fabric of Trip's sleeve. "Do _I_ get an _away mission_ jacket?"

"No."

Cue pouting. "But _I_ want a jacket to wear while going to the market! What if I get cold?"

"You won't get cold, Mal," Trip tried to tell him. " _I_ really don't even need to wear this jacket. T'Pol says it's gonna be on the warm side there."

"Then what are you wearing it for?" Mal asked immediately.

"Um—well—"

"In case Trip gets lost, they'll know where to return him," Jon said, in a completely unhelpful way. "See, it's got an _Enterprise_ patch right there."

"But what if _I_ get lost?" Mal persisted, and Trip gave Jon a look that said, _You see why you should have just kept your mouth shut?_ "How will people know where to return _me_?"

"Mal, you won't get lost, you always know where _I_ am," Trip pointed out. "Although," he added in a dry tone of voice, "maybe we could get you a collar to wear around your neck, with a little tag on it."

"Oh, I think that would be nice. Can we do that, please?" Mal responded earnestly, and Jon shot Trip a chiding look.

"No," Trip reversed shortly. "Now come on, we gotta finish getting ready."

 

_Hurry up, slowpoke. We're gonna leave you behind._

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Don't leave without me, Trip! Don't leave!"

_For G-d's sake, stop screaming. Just get in the shuttlepod._

Mal appeared at the hatch, breathless and anxious. Trip rolled his eyes. "Where have you been?" he asked as Mal settled into a seat. "And what the h—l is that?" He pointed to the rather large container Mal was balancing on his lap.

"It's my snack," Mal replied, as if it should be obvious. "You told me I should bring a snack along."

" _A_ snack, Mal. Like, _an_ apple. That thing's big enough for three meals."

"Well," Mal began, and Trip could tell this was going to be a long one, "I started with an apple, and then I thought—what if something happened to the apple? What if I dropped it or it fell out of my pocket or someone stole it or apples were illegal on their planet and it was confiscated by the authorities? Then I wouldn't have a snack! So I thought I'd better bring a back‑up snack. I got a granola bar. And then I thought—what if I didn't feel like having a granola bar? Because sometimes they're rather dry, you know. But, they're high-energy, so if I needed a snack before we went hiking through the wilderness, a granola bar would be good. So I didn't want to leave it behind. But in case my apple was confiscated by the authorities and I didn't feel like having a granola bar, I decided to bring an orange. But, I know you say I'm very messy with the oranges, which would be alright if we were eating in a place with proper waste receptacles, but what if we _weren't_ eating in a place with proper waste receptacles? So in case my apple was confiscated by the authorities and I didn't feel like having a granola bar and we were in a place without proper waste receptacles, I thought I ought to bring a ham sandwich—"

"For the love of G-d, please stop," Trip requested in a flat tone. By now everyone else in the pod was staring at them and Mal began to look a little shy. _Serves you right._ "Give me that."

Trip took the container from Mal and opened it to survey the rather extensive variety of food Mal had packed for the trip. He pulled out an apple, handed it to Mal, then closed the container and leaned out the hatch into the launch bay. "Hey, Crewman!" One of the maintenance workers hurried over. "Take this back to the kitchens for me. Thanks." And he shut the hatch.

"My snacks…!" Mal protested mournfully, watching the container vanish through the window.

"Your snack is the apple," Trip told him. "Don't eat it right now. _If_ we find something to eat on the planet that Doc here says won't kill you, _maybe_ you can have it. But only if you've been good. Which, I gotta point out, is gonna be an uphill trek for you at the moment." Mal stowed his apple safely away—he had to be extra-careful with it now, as it was his sole remaining food item—and spent the flight to the surface with his lower lip sticking out. At least he was quiet, though.

 

Marcus began handing out the communicators as Archer made landing preparations. "Don't I get one?" Mal asked, feeling left out.

"No," Trip told him.

"I want a communicator."

"You don't need one," Trip insisted. "You're always gonna be with me, aren't you?"

"Well, yes…"

"And if we ever get separated, you can find me."

"Well, yes…"

"And," Trip added, "what if you lost yours? These are very expensive, you know."

"How expensive are they?" Mal wanted to know.

"Um… Well, I don't know _specifically_ …" Mal gave him a look that said he wouldn't believe the claim without details. "Hey, Captain, how expensive are communicators?"

Archer was trying to fit the shuttlepod in a landing space between two larger vehicles that had overstepped their own boundaries. "Uh—a lot."

"There you go," Trip told Mal. "They're _a lot_ expensive."

"What if you lose yours?" Mal queried pointedly. Trip rolled his eyes and refused to answer that question, fair though it might be.

 

"What's that smell?"

"Um… alien air," was the best Trip could come up with. He had to admit, the space just outside the shuttlepod hatch _did_ have a somewhat strange odor—he hoped it was just the landing bay and not the local area in general. Because it was really on the ripe side.

"The market should be this way," Archer mentioned, heading for the main entrance.

As they reached the gateway to the square, the noise level (and the smell) increased, until the crowd came into view. Hundreds of people from dozens of species, shouting and bartering in their native languages, hawking and haggling over goods human eyes had never seen before… Jon, Hoshi, and Phlox stared in wonder and delight. Marcus began strategizing. But Trip had something else on his mind.

_Do NOT freak out._

Mal grabbed his hand, wrapped the other around Trip's upper arm, and curled up against him. Trip could just hear him whimpering under the din of the mob.

_You're gonna be alright. Just stick with me, okay?_

Mal nodded against Trip's shoulder.

_Would it help to imagine that these people want to hurt me?_

"Let's go back to the pod," Mal whispered in Trip's ear.

"Okay, forget that they want to hurt me," Trip replied. "Just stay close, okay?"

"Trip?" Archer was looking back over his shoulder. "You two coming?"

 

"Whoa."

"Wow."

"Huh."

"Men." Said with rolling eyes.

"How intriguing! The female Taxicrins of Taxicris IV also have six breasts, although this individual is far more feline in appearance—notice the long furred tail and prominent whiskers‑‑"

"Oh, we notice alright."

The woman was dancing seductively on a stage, completely naked as far as any of them could tell, beckoning onlookers into an establishment of uncertain reputation nearby. Lights flashed around her in time to the heavy beat of loud music, and her tail twitched in a way that Trip felt he should find creepy. But he sure didn't.

"Look, Trip!" Mal said excitedly, pointing. " _Butterflies_!"

Yes, indeed, hovering around the woman's head there did appear to be iridescent winged insects of some kind, though whether real or holographic Trip couldn't say. "Yeah, she sure does have nice butterflies…"

"Let's move on," Archer coughed hurriedly, forcing himself to be the grown-up.

 

"It smells bad here!"

"I'm with you on that one, buddy," Trip agreed, holding one hand up to his nose.

"This is fascinating!" Phlox enthused, looking at the rows of cages that surrounded them. "I wonder how many of these creatures have medicinal purposes… Uh, Captain, perhaps we could—"

"No!" Archer countered peremptorily. "Come on, let's get out of this section. Hoshi, what does that sign say?"

The Comm Officer aimed her UT at the directory. "Industrial parts are… this way, I think," she reported.

Archer nodded. "Okay. Come on, everyone."

Suddenly there was a commotion near them and a stack of wooden cages toppled over. The stall owner began shouting at the clumsy customer, who shouted back. Instantly a small crowd formed. Archer was about to herd his people away when something small and bright blue hopped out of a broken cage, perching on the edge of the wreckage skittishly.

Trip felt Mal's intake of breath and tried to turn him away. "Come on, buddy, we gotta go, let's go—"

"Ohhhhhh, look at it, Trip, isn't it pretty?" Mal insisted, eyes fixing on the small, twitching creature.

"No," Trip told him shortly. "Let's go, let's go _now_ —"

The bright blue animal took off like a shot, scampering to freedom through the crowd. And Mal charged after it. "Mal!" Trip shouted. "Get back here!" He followed before the crush of people could swallow Mal entirely.

"What the h—l?" demanded Archer angrily. "Trip!" And he ran to pursue his Chief Engineer.

"Stay here," Marcus ordered a bemused Hoshi and Phlox, before he, too, joined in the chase. Hoshi and Phlox looked at each other and shrugged, having no intention of going anywhere.

Trip barely kept Mal in sight as the other man effortlessly dodged people, goods, animals, and structures, no other goal in mind than catching the small blue creature. He could hear the Captain yelling behind him, but he was afraid that if he turned back, even for a second, he would lose Mal entirely. Mal skidded around a corner and Trip followed, only to find Mal sitting on the ground, small blue animal clutched triumphantly in his hands. It didn't appear to be moving.

Upon seeing Trip Mal scrambled over to him, offering up the creature. "Look, look, look!" he exclaimed. "Look what I caught for you! It's so pretty! Aren't you proud of me?"

Trip looked down at the battered blue lump of fur in Mal's palms and grimaced. "Great, Mal, you brought me a dead hamster. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"We could eat it!" Mal suggested eagerly.

"No!"

"Trip!" Archer was panting slightly from his exertion when he came to a stop near them, Marcus hot on his heels. "What's going on?"

"Um… nothing," Trip tried. "Get rid of that," he hissed to Mal.

"But it's so pretty!" Mal wailed. "I caught it for you! It was hard! Aren't you proud of me?"

"Oh my G-d, did he kill it?" Archer asked, a tinge of horror in his tone.

"No, no, no," Trip insisted, as though he were certain. Which he wasn't. Visions of Mal beating Marcus's shooting target into the deck plating came to mind. "It probably… died… from running," he suggested lamely.

Archer gave him a look. "Mal, throw that away. Let's get back to Hoshi and Phlox."

"But I don't want to throw it away!" Mal howled, voice rich with indignation. Passersby were starting to stare. "I caught it for Trip! It's pretty!" He threw his arms around Trip's waist and buried his face against his stomach, sobbing. And still clutching the dead animal.

"It-it's just instinct, Captain," Trip said, trying to quiet Mal by patting his head and back.

"We are not taking a dead rodent back to _Enterprise_ ," Archer told him shortly. "Get rid of it!" He spun around, intending to work his way back through the crowd, and came up short before a local alien.

"I presume you were returning to my stall to pay for that," the man said dryly.

"Pay for what?" Archer snapped, not in a good mood.

"That," the man explained, pointing to the rather distinctive furry corpse Mal held. "Lycrosian zurines are very hard to come by."

"And very expensive, I'll bet," Archer guessed, glaring at Trip.

 

_Stop looking at me like that._

_It was a dead hamster._

_You can't reasonably expect to be allowed to take a dead animal back to the ship._

_Think about germs. You don't like germs. A dead alien animal would be teeming with germs._

"I could have cleaned it."

"What was that?" Archer snapped, whipping his head around to look at them.

"What?" Trip asked innocently. The Captain gave him a narrow glance, then turned back around. He intended to keep Trip on a short leash for the rest of the mission.

_You could not have cleaned it. It's a dead animal. Just get over it._

"But it was so pretty and blue."

Glancing worriedly at the Captain, Trip shushed Mal and dragged him to a bin a bit farther away. "Stop obsessing over it. Help me look through this stuff."

"It's just ugly scraps of metal," Mal complained.

"Some of them might be made of alloys we can use," Trip reminded him, squinting at his hand scanner. "Shove that pile over so I can scan deeper."

Mal sighed and shoved the pile of metal scraps aside. "I'm sorry I chased the pretty blue thing, Trip," he finally said. "I didn't think it would make the Captain so angry."

"Well, I guess it was just instinct to chase it," Trip decided. He lowered his voice slightly, making sure Archer wasn't listening. "Did you really have to kill it, though?"

"It was _wiggling_ ," Mal replied. "I thought we could have it for a snack, and then I could keep its pretty blue fur."

Trip gave him a sideways glance. "Just so you know, that's really kinda creepy, Mal."

"Sorry," Mal answered, dejectedly. "I didn't mean to be creepy, Trip."

Trip patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Well, if at all possible, try not to do it again, okay?"

"Okay."

"I think," Trip went on, checking the scanner, "that there's some tritanium in here. Might be able to melt it down into new casings for the phase coupler relays." He clicked the scanner off and stuck it in his pocket, gazing speculatively at the bin of metal scraps. "Come on, help me dig through here."

"Some of these edges are quite sharp," Mal pointed out worriedly. "Are you sure it's safe to poke around in here without gloves?"

"Who has gloves?" Trip asked, shaking his head. "Just be careful. Come on."

"You're at a very awkward angle," Mal observed moments later, as Trip was tipped halfway into the scraps bin. "You might lose your balance and injure yourself."

The edge of the bin was compressing Trip's lungs a bit, so he gasped as he shot back, "That's why I've got you here to save me, isn't it? Now help me dig!"

"Trip!" One hand on the back of his collar, one on the back of his jacket, and Trip was yanked bodily out of the scrap bin he had started to tumble into. "Are you alright?"

"Um, yeah," Trip answered, slightly startled to find himself in a completely different position all of a sudden. "Thanks, buddy. Hey, I almost had that piece of tritanium, I think, why don't you hold onto me and I'll get in there again—"

"Trip!" This admonishment came from the Captain, who was walking over to them. "Did I just see you almost fall into that container?"

"I don't know," Trip answered suspiciously. "Did you?"

Archer gave him an exasperated look. "And why aren't you wearing gloves? You're going to cut your hands up and get some kind of nasty infection…" Archer held his hands up to show the bulky work gloves he was sporting.

"I told you," Mal whispered loudly. Trip shushed him.

"Where'd you get those?" he asked the Captain.

"The guy who runs this area loaned them to me," Archer replied. "He _also_ said, don't climb into the bins." He gave Trip a pointed look and the engineer sighed.

 

"I could have brought my orange."

"Zip it."

"This place seems to have proper waste receptacles."

"You wanna eat that apple, or you want me to have the authorities confiscate it?"

"Commander," Hoshi chided lightly.

"I want to eat it!" Mal insisted.

"Then eat it, and quit buggin' me."

"Do you want some of my apple?" Mal offered generously.

"No." Trip rested his hand lightly on his stomach with a grimace. "Think I've had enough snacking. Forever."

"Isn't your food sitting well with you, Commander?" Phlox asked with curiosity.

"I _told_ you not to get the weird-looking meat," Jon reminded him from the other side of the table.

"Phlox said it was safe," Trip said defensively.

"Safe to consume does not necessarily mean your particular body chemistry will respond well to it," Phlox disclaimed. He dug into the small pack he'd brought with him. "Here. These should help alleviate your discomfort."

"Thanks, Doc." Trip chewed the chalky tablets gratefully. "Any of you see something like a gents' room anywhere?"

Hoshi gestured to one side with her fork. "That way. You want the one with a rectangle on the door, I think. There's also circles, triangles, and diamonds, so don't go into the wrong one."

Trip tried not to stare at her. "Great, thanks," he said, rising from the table. "Be right back." He was determined not to think about what being a circle, triangle, or diamond would mean. Mal dutifully hopped up from the ground to follow him. Trip expected nothing less.

The facilities were not exactly what Trip was used to, but upon discreet inspection—though not discreet enough to avoid glares from a few fellow users—he figured out what the proper thing to do was. Although he couldn't for the life of him find anything resembling a sink.

"You got that disinfecting gel Phlox gave you?" he asked Mal upon exit. Carefully balancing his partially-eaten apple, Mal pulled out the small bottle he carried everywhere and squirted some of the cool liquid onto Trip's palms—then proceeded to rub them clean himself. "Thanks," Trip told him sardonically. "I shoulda just had you pee for me, too."

"Is that possible?" Mal asked quizzically.

"No. Come on."

They were nearly back to the table when a voice from behind stopped them. "Excuse me! Excuse me!"

Trip turned to see a young woman hurrying up to them, humanoid with an attractive face and long silvery hair. She seemed to enjoy wearing leather, although not much of it. Trip gladly waited for her to arrive. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.

"Hi," she said with a big smile when she reached them. "So sorry to bother you—I'm Jamila, by the way."

"Uh, Trip Tucker," he replied. "No bother. Did I drop something or…?"

"No, not at all, Uh-Trip-Tucker," she assured him pleasantly. "I was noticing you earlier, with your friends."

"Well, gee, I'm flattered." Trip gave her his most charming smile. "We just came down to do a little shopping. How 'bout yourself?"

"Same here," Jamila told him. "I'm here with my sisters looking for a birthday gift. My birthday's next week."

"Hey, happy birthday." Jamila looked at him blankly. "Uh, that's what we say when someone's having a birthday," Trip explained quickly. "Wishing that they have a good time and all."

"Oh," Jamila nodded. "That's very nice. Where are you from?"

"Our planet's called Earth," Trip revealed. "It's about, oh, fifty lightyears from here."

"My homeworld is much closer, only about ten lightyears," Jamila informed him. "It's called Poogle."

Mal snickered and Trip nudged him lightly with his foot, smiling tightly at Jamila. The dark-haired man had dropped to his knees on the ground when it seemed like the conversation was going to go on for a bit. "It's a funny word!" he whispered up to Trip.

_Shut up._ "Sorry, please ignore him," Trip suggested to Jamila. "He doesn't always know how to behave in public."

"It's funny you should say that," Jamila began leadingly, "as I was watching you earlier, and thinking how _well_ -behaved he was. What's his name?"

"This is Mal," Trip introduced. "Sorry I didn't do it earlier, he tends to be kind of shy. Mal, this is Jamila." On cue, Mal ducked behind Trip's legs, causing him to stumble a bit.

Ignoring this, Jamila crouched down and gave Mal a friendly smile. "Hello there, Mal! Aren't you just so cute?"

"Am I?" he inquired curiously.

"Well _I_ think you are," Jamila assured him. She glanced up at Trip. "Can I pet him? Will he bite?"

Here was a question Trip didn't know how to answer. "Um, well—Mal?" _You don't have to say yes._

"I suppose it would be alright," Mal allowed slowly, and Jamila immediately ran her slender fingers through his hair.

"Oh, he is _so_ soft," she enthused. "How often do you bathe him?"

"Mal likes to be pretty clean," Trip told her, beginning to feel weird about the questions. "He takes a shower every day."

"A _short_ shower," Mal grumbled, leaning into Jamila's petting more.

Reluctance showing on her face, she broke off and stood back up. "I have three just like him at home," she went on to Trip, and he stared at her.

"Three? Like Mal?"

"Well, not from Earth," she clarified. "They're all different species, actually. I really like that coloration, the pale skin and the dark hair. My sister's got a whole collection with blue hair. Anyway," she pressed on quickly, "I was just wondering—is he for sale?"

Trip's jaw dropped. "No!"

"That's too bad," Jamila said regretfully. "I mean, it seemed like you were kind of attached to him, but he would go so perfectly in my collection, I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Trip struggled to remain polite. "Well, I suppose it never hurts to ask," he agreed, with difficulty.

"Where did you buy him?" Jamila continued. "Did he come trained, or did you do it yourself? I hope you don't mind me asking, I'm just very curious now."

"He's not—I didn't—" Trip sputtered. "I mean, I didn't _buy_ Mal. I don't _own_ him."

Jamila seemed surprised. "You don't? But I was watching you. He follows you around, does things for you—he cleaned off that chair before you sat down, he brought you napkins, he even went with you to the _divernat_ …" Trip was glad the UT hadn't translated that word precisely. "That's what mine do for me."

"Well, Mal is just, um—he's helpful," Trip tried. "He likes to help me. But he's not my—um—slave, or servant, or anything."

"He's a free person?"

"That's right," Trip nodded enthusiastically. "He's totally free."

"Well, in that case…" Jamila dropped back to a crouch. "Hello there, Mal. Would you like to come home with me? I live in a nice big house on a quiet planet, and every day we read and play music and eat yummy food—we even have food similar to the one you've got right there," she added, pointing to the apple core Mal held.

"Do you have lots of hot water for baths and showers?" Mal inquired.

"Mal!" Trip exclaimed, horrified that he would even consider the idea. "She wants to—make a sex slave out of you or something!"

Jamila stood, looking very offended. "That's not true at all! I don't have sexual intercourse with any of my slaves, that's just disgusting! That's not the way we do things on Poogle at all! And _anyway_ ," she went on, getting herself rather worked up, "I don't see how you can tell Mal what to do, you just said he was a free person!"

Trip's temper was starting to get the better of him as well. "Well _you_ don't understand the way _humans_ do things, we don't believe one person can own another at _all_! Why would you think Mal would want to go from being free to being someone's pet?!"

"Well it looks like he's already _your_ pet!" Jamila shot back. "If you _humans_ are so high and mighty about not owning people, how do you explain _that_?!"

"You don't understand the _first thing_ about what's going on here—"

Hoshi looked up from her lunch with a frown. "I think Commander Tucker is arguing with someone."

Archer glanced around. "Where?"

She gestured. "Over there. The woman in the leather bikini."

Archer immediately hopped up. "I think I'd better go check that out."

"Me, too," Marcus added quickly. "You two stay here."

"Men," Hoshi sighed.

"Excuse me," Archer cut in forcefully, silencing both Trip and Jamila. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer, of the Earth starship _Enterprise_. Is there a problem here?"

"What's a _captain_?" Jamila asked huffily. "Are you some sort of servant-but-not-a-servant, too?"

Archer gave her a patient look. "No, I'm actually in charge of the ship. Commander Tucker is my subordinate."

Jamila turned a triumphant look on Trip. "Oh, I see how it is now. _You're_ actually subservient to someone yourself!" Before Trip could object, she turned back to Archer. "Well, listen, _Captain_ , I think you need to teach your subordinate a little manners. All I did was make a polite inquiry as to whether Mal here—whom I'm _told_ is a free person—would like to come and live with me, and I started getting a lecture!"

Archer smiled diplomatically. "I'm terribly sorry if Commander Tucker offended you," he apologized, as Trip gaped at him in protest. "He tends to become rather emotional about Mal. They're bonded, you see, and really can't be separated."

Jamila's whole expression changed. "Oh! _Bonded_! Well my goodness, why didn't anyone say so? I shouldn't expect they would be separated in that case." She looked down at Mal, who was still on the ground behind Trip. "I'm sorry, Mal, I'm afraid I'll have to rescind my offer in that case. Your bondmate is _not_ to my taste." Trip made a face at her, which she ignored. "Captain… Archer? You may offer my apologies to your subordinate. Although I think you should also tell him to explain that he's bonded a little earlier in the conversation. It might help clear things up."

"I'll be sure to suggest that to him," Archer replied, straight-faced. "I don't know how much good it will do, he's not very well-behaved sometimes."

"So I've noticed." And with that, Jamila turned and walked off.

Silence descended on the group for a moment. Then Archer turned to Trip and deadpanned, "Trip, Jamila says she's sorry for trying to lure Mal away, but she was unaware you two were bonded. Maybe if you'd said that a little earlier—"

"Oh my G-d!" Trip exclaimed, outraged. Marcus snickered in the background.

Archer grinned. "Oh, come on, lighten up, Trip. As T'Pol would say, you need to be more open-minded about other cultures. I mean, she obviously didn't mean any harm."

"Didn't mean any harm?" Trip grumbled, as the four of them made their way back to the table. "Who does she think she is, gettin' in my face about how Mal brings me napkins and follows me to the bathroom? Since when does that make him some kind of slave?"

"Yes, I think the kneeling-at-your-feet thing is _far_ more suggestive of slavery," Marcus remarked dryly.

"Shut up. And anyway," Trip went on, "we're _not_ 'bonded.' Mal's bonded to _me_. It doesn't go both ways. I don't know what _he's_ thinking."

"What was all that about?" Hoshi asked as they sat back down.

"Cultural misunderstanding," Archer waved off.

"Crazy harem keeper lady wanted to add Mal to her collection!" Trip ranted. "Can you believe that?"

As soon as Trip was seated, Mal launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Oh, Trip, I'm so glad you didn't sell me to the silver-haired woman from Poogle! Even though I'm sure she would have offered a lot of money for me."

"Don't worry, you were never in danger of gettin' a one-way ticket to Poogle, buddy," Trip assured him.

"It _does_ make one think, though, doesn't it?" Phlox began speculatively. "I mean, technically, Mal is not a member of the _Enterprise_ crew, he's not beholden to Starfleet in any way. If he ever _did_ want to leave the ship—"

"Stop, you're scarin' him, Doc," Trip ordered. "I can tell from the way he's wipin' his nose on me." He handed Mal an extra napkin. "Here, use this."

"It's scratchy," Mal complained, damp-eyed. "Your uniform is nice and soft."

"It's rude to wipe your nose on clothing," Trip told him sharply. "Especially someone else's."

"If you aren't nice to me," Mal tried, "perhaps I _shall_ run away to Poogle."

"Yeah, right," Trip snorted. But he put the napkin aside.

 

"When's Trip coming back?"

"He said he would just be gone a few minutes, Mal," Hoshi reminded him patiently.

"But why should he want to go somewhere without _me_?"

"How interesting," Phlox replied. "I thought you were privy to Commander Tucker's motivations."

A glum expression crossed Mal's face. "He said not to check. He said he wanted to surprise me."

"Well there you go," Hoshi insisted brightly.

"I don't like surprises."

"Ah, Ensign Sato," Phlox requested, peering at an unpleasant-looking substance dangling from a nearby stall, "would you mind assisting in translation for me?" The gnarled shopkeeper looked positively gleeful at the opportunity to bilk another off-worlder out of excessive funds.

Mal stood quietly behind them, rocking back and forth on his heels, staring in the direction Trip, Archer, and Marcus had gone. The rest of the away team was supposed to wait here, near the exit to the market. Soon they would be going home. Trip had promised. They would go home, and they would go through Decon and be purified, and then they could take a nice, long, hot shower and eat some snacks and watch a nice movie while sitting on the bed together. Actually most of the last part was just wishful thinking, but Mal felt it was better to be positive. Between the crowd, the noise, the strange smells, all the touching of strange substances, the lack of food, and the general emotional distress, Mal was more than ready to get back in the shuttlepod, which was at least familiar.

At last Mal saw the others returning through the crowd, and his face lit up. "Trip's coming back! Trip's coming back!" he announced excitedly to Hoshi and Phlox, interrupting their conversation with the stall owner. He started to race towards Trip.

_Ah ah ah—you just stay there with Hoshi and Phlox. I'll be there in a minute._

Mal skidded to a stop, quivering anxiously in place. He didn't like to be separated from Trip. On _Enterprise_ it was alright, if Mal were running an errand or getting something from the Mess Hall, but this was obviously a strange and hostile environment in which anything might occur.

Finally Trip was close enough for Mal to throw his arms around him joyously. "Oh Trip! I'm so glad to see you! I missed you so much!"

"Honestly, Mal," Trip teased, but he was grinning, "you woulda thought I was gone for a month instead of just a few minutes."

"Everyone ready to go?" Archer asked the group. "Alright, let's get a move on."

"But where did you _go_ , Trip?" Mal pressed worriedly, as they finally left the market. "I was _so_ worried!"

"Oh… I just went to get you a little present," Trip tossed out casually.

Mal gasped. "A _present_?! For _me_?!" He started to do an excited little dance around Trip, drawing stares from both strangers and crewmembers.

"Got him a present," Trip explained to no one in particular, with a smile.

"How nice," Hoshi enthused, looking back at them. "What did he get for you, Mal?"

"I don't know," Mal admitted, fervor not dampening. "But it's a _present_! A present for _me_! From _Trip_!"

"Well, do you want it, or do you just want to think about _getting_ it?" Trip asked him.

"I want to think about _getting_ it a little longer."

"Okay then."

Mal held out until they were all aboard the shuttlepod. "Okay, may I please have my present now?"

"No squealing or anything while I'm trying to take off," Archer warned. During their time at the market, one of the large, overbearing ships hemming them in had left… only to be replaced by an even larger and less considerate one.

"I'll be quiet," Mal promised in a whisper. "I'll be _so_ quiet."

Trip unzipped one of his pockets. "I'm sure it won't be as good as the real thing," he began, keeping it concealed, "but since you seemed kinda fixated on the appearance…" Mal clapped both hands over his mouth to keep from making noise when Trip produced the gift. "It's not real," Trip hastened to add. "It's just a synthetic toy. But I figured it was about the right color and shape…"

Gently Mal took the small electric blue stuffed rodent from Trip and crushed it to his chest. "Thank you, Trip!" he mouthed silently. Then he mouthed a lot of other stuff that Trip couldn't quite follow because lip-reading had never been his forte, but he got the general idea.

"Glad you like it, buddy," he replied. "I figured you deserved it, since you were so good today."

"I was?" Mal asked in confusion. Then he decided it was best not to question Trip's decision.


End file.
